CAST OF CHARACTERS:

PLAYGOERS: People gathered to watch the play

CHRISTIAN DE NEUVILLETTE: Pretty boy with nothing but air beneath the hair

LIGNIÉRE: A drunken poet

RAGUENEAU: A pastry chef

PICKPOCKET: Picks pockets

LE BRET: A cadet of Carbon de Castel-Jaloux

MONTFLEURY: An actor with all the flair of a constipated cow

CYRANO DE BERGERAC: An expert swordsman and poet extraordinaire; a cadet of Carbon de Castel-Jaloux

COUNT DE GUICHE: An old, rich man who rides around on his high horse with a broomstick up his butt

VISCOUNT DE VALVERT: Wants to marry Roxane

MAID: of Roxane's

LISE: Wife of Ragueneau

ROXANE: Her real name is Magdaleine Robin; orphan and cousin to Cyrano

CARBON DE CASTEL-JALOUX: Captain of the cadets

CADETS: A military group under the command of Carbon de Castel-Jaloux

MUSICIANS: A duo of musicians who play poorly

FRIAR: The friar who marries Roxane and Christian

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ACT ONE: SCENE ONE

(Setting: a playhouse at night. The curtain is closed.

Playgoers are spread throughout the

audience. Also spread around are CHRISTIAN,

DE GUICHE, RAGUENEAU, LE BRET, LIGNIÉRE,

and VISCOUNT. They are all talking amongst

each other, waiting for the play to start.)

PLAYGOER1:

What is the play tonight?

PLAYGOER2:

La Beauté et la Bête.

PLAYGOER1:

With Montfleury?

PLAYGOER2:

Of course! He's the most popular actor on the stage!

PLAYGOER3:

How long until it starts?

PLAYGOER4:

Ten minutes–if it ever starts.

PLAYGOER3:

What do you mean?

PLAYGOER4:

I heard that Cyrano warned Montfleury to quit the stage, and you know

Cyrano's temper--He isn't called Capitaine Satan for nothing.

PLAYGOER3:

He can hold enough fury to fill his nose! (The two laugh)

CHRISTIAN:

Come on, Ligniére! I know she'll come!

LIGNIÉRE:

Stop; she won't come.

(LIGNIÉRE starts to leave when CHRISTIAN brings

out a bottle of wine.)

Maybe she will come. (Takes the bottle eagerly)

CHRISTIAN:

That's the last one, man.

LIGNIÉRE:

In that case, I give her eight minutes. (Tastes the wine and finds it's

delicious) Make that five. (Begins to chug it down)

CHRISTIAN:

Holy crap, man, chill! Whales drink less than you do!

LIGNIÉRE:

Then those whales don't know what they're missing. (Laughs)

(CHRISTIAN takes the bottle away)

Aw, come on! Give it back!

CHRISTIAN:

Not 'til we're done here!

LIGNIÉRE:

(tries to get the bottle back) Why do you need me, anyway?

CHRISTIAN:

I'm totally new to this place, man, but you know everybody!

You have to tell me who she is!

LIGNIÉRE:

Why don't you just ask her?

CHRISTIAN:

Me? I can't...(leans in closer) I can't talk to the ladies.

LIGNIÉRE:

(takes back the bottle and drinks) A man with your looks doesn't need

to talk.

CHRISTIAN:

My mom doesn't even understand me half the time. And once

my grandma slapped me 'cuz she thought I dissed her.

(He sees Roxane enter and blushes)

LIGNIÉRE:

She must have slapped really hard, because your face is still red.

CHRISTIAN:

Not that! It's her! She's here! (Staring at ROXANE who has entered on

the other side of the audience)

LIGNIÉRE:

(throws his arms open) There he is! That pastry patron of the arts!

(RAGUENEAU approaches, and they embrace)

What did it cost to get you here tonight, dear friend?

RAGUENEAU:

Eight cream pies and fourteen fruit tarts.

LIGNIÉRE:

(to CHRISTIAN) May I present Ragueneau, pastry maker of poets. He

supplies us all on credit.

RAGUENEAU:

Well, I being a poet myself cannot deny my own people. Who is your

young friend, Ligniére?

LIGNIÉRE:

Baron Christian de Neuvillette. He's come from the north to hunt for

treasure.

RAGUENEAU:

Pleasure to meet you, sir.

CHRISTIAN:

(eyes still on ROXANE) Ditto, man.

LIGNIÉRE:

(looks) Ah, and there's his jewel now.

CHRISTIAN:

Who is she?

LIGNIÉRE:

Magdaleine Robin, nicknamed Roxane. She is the cousin of the infamous

Cyrano de Bergerac.

RAGUENEAU:

Cyrano! I almost forgot! Have you seen him? (Looks around)

CHRISTIAN:

Who's that guy with her?

LIGNIÉRE:

The Count de Guiche.

CHRISTIAN:

Her lover?

LIGNIÉRE:

Only in his dreams. He's already married to Richelieu's niece.

RAGUENEAU:

Do you know if Montfleury's going to perform?

LIGNIÉRE:

That constipated cow? He'd better not, lest he drive our newcomer

here out of town with his moaning.

CHRISTIAN:

Who's he?

LIGNIÉRE:

An actor who is only favored because he has a powerful patron.

CHRISTIAN:

No, the other guy with her!

LIGNIÉRE:

Oh. That's the Viscount de Valvert. De Guiche is trying to put that

man with Roxane. Roxane hates him, but de Guiche is determined.

His favorite hobby is tormenting the middle class. (Starts to sing:)

"Cleaver raised high, the butcher sighs:

'These blue veins will leave a stain.'

But one clean chop will finally drop

And the boar will be no more."

(Laughs and drinks)

RAGUENEAU:

Have you seen him?

LIGNIÉRE:

Who now?

RAGUENEAU:

Cyrano!

LIGNIÉRE:

No.

CHRISTIAN:

I'll beat him up! (Still thinking of Valvert)

RAGUENEAU:

I'd have bet money on his coming. (Still thinking of Cyrano)

CHRISTIAN:

Come with me to fight him!

RAGUENEAU:

Stay with me to look out for him!

LIGNIÉRE:

Shut up! A man can only take one subject at a time, and a drunk

man can take none of it! So take your empty bottle, and I'll

take my leave. (Exits)

RAGUENEAU:

Le Bret would know if he's coming. Excuse me, Baron. (Moves to LE BRET)

(CHRISTIAN continues to stare at ROXANE until he

feels a tug from his pocket. A PICKPOCKET is attempting

to steal his money pouch. CHRISTIAN chases him

to the back of the audience.)

PICKPOCKET:

Stop! Stop! If you let me go, I'll tell you a secret about your

friend, Ligniere!

CHRISTIAN:

Spill it!

PICKPOCKET:

He wrote an insulting song, and the one offended by it sent a

hundred men to meet him on the road and kill him.

CHRISTIAN:

A hundred soldiers against one poet? They're all chicken!

Where they gonna be?

PICKPOCKET:

At the Porte de Nesle. You better warn him.

(CHRISTIAN releases the pickpocket and exits.

The house lights dim.)

LE BRET:

The play's about to start.

RAGUENEAU:

No Cyrano in sight.

(The curtain opens, revealing MONTFLEURY.

PLAYGOERS cheer and shout his name.)

RAGUENEAU:

Montfleury! Lucky for him Cyrano didn't come.

MONTFLEURY:

Long ago, in a time that history forgot...

Long ago, in a place rife in magic...

Long ago...

VOICE:

Didn't I order you to quit the stage for a month?

(All turn to the balconies, the source of the voice.

Then heads turn back to the stage.)

PLAYGOERS:

Continue with the play!

MONTFLEURY:

Long ago, in a time that...

VOICE:

One more word, you beached whale, and I'll burn your

blubber on the chandelier!

PLAYGOERS:

On with the play, Montfleury!

MONTFLEURY:

Long ago, in...

VOICE:

The grinding of teeth would be better received than your

flapping gums! (To his feet, we see it is Cyrano, furious)

I'll give you three counts, full moon. On the third,

eclipse yourself! One...

PLAYGOERS:

On with the play!

CYRANO:

Two...

PLAYGOERS:

Go on, Montfleury!

CYRANO:

Three! (Begins to make his way down to the stage)

PLAYGOERS:

Protect Montfleury! (Male playgoers go up on stage to block

Cyrano from Montfleury)

CYRANO:

I am here to rid the stage's wood of its largest termite! And here

is the exterminator! (Refers to sword)

MONTFLEURY:

By doing this, sir, you anger the muses!

CYRANO:

The muses favor Orpheus when he plays. Listen to his music:

(Draws his sword)

This line was taken from the Hooker translation

PLAYGOERS:

Throw Capitaine Satan out!

CYRANO:

All right, stage devourers! Before reaching the leader, I must first

go through his colony. Those of you who wish to challenge me

raise your hand! You, sir? No? How about you, then? No? Not

one name to head the list? No hands? Good. That settled, I

will on with my business. For after the termite has had his fill,

the wood must have its fill of him!

(CYRANO activates a trap door through which

MONTFLEURY falls. Entertained by this, the

audience cheers. CYRANO removes his hat and

bows.)

PLAYGOER1:

But what about our money? We paid to see a play!

CYRANO:

For such a priceless performance as was just seen, money is

no matter of mine. So take this! (Opens his money pouch and

showers the audience with coins. He then jumps down from

the stage.)

PLAYGOER5:

(aside with CYRANO) Are you sure that was a smart thing to

do, Cyrano? Montfleury has the Duke of Candale as his patron

and protector. Do you have anyone?

CYRANO:

No, I don't.

PLAYGOER5:

Not one benefactor?

CYRANO:

No.

PLAYGOER5:

Not even of any class?

CYRANO:

I said "no" twice already! Did Montfleury's shrill squawk kill

your hearing?

(PLAYGOER5 doesn't answer. Only stares.)

What are you staring at, sir?

PLAYGOER5

Nothing.

CYRANO:

Does my nose offend you, sir?

PLAYGOER5:

Not at all, sir.

CYRANO:

Is it the wrong color? Does it dangle?

PLAYGOER5:

Not at all, sir. It's small, very small.

CYRANO:

Idiot!

It's enormous! You insult me by selling it short when it is long! A

man should proud of such a nose, sir, a nose that displays its

owner as well-endowed with courage, wit, and daring, unlike

your stubby snout so lacking in personality, spark, and grace!

So lacking in nose is your grotesque mug,

That it would rival the face of a pug! (Addressing all:)

For those of you who find my nose an object of ridicule, my

answer is altogether different if you are noble, for then I

attack with steel instead of speech!

DE GUICHE:

Will no one stand to challenge him?

VISCOUNT:

Leave it to me! (Approaches CYRANO) Your nose, sir, is big. Very big.

CYRANO:

Yes, very. Is that all?

VISCOUNT:

Yes.

CYRANO:

You've nothing more?

VISCOUNT:

No.

CYRANO:

A challenge as weak as that is not worth a reply. If you wish to offend, do

it properly. There are fifty, no, more types of criticism you could supply,

were you more clever. Allow me to demonstrate:

Economic: Why buy a table with that on which to set your plate?

Whimsical: How many lies did you tell?

Concerned: It's swollen! Are you not well?

Mythical: The Norse giants would not dare compare!

Amazed: A coat hanger with a moustache? How rare!

Musical: Every ear can hear that horn blow!

Venetian: Such a fine mask for Capitano!

Resourceful: My bloodhound's lost. Can I use you?

Touristic: Such a monument! What cost to view?

Aquatic: You could duel the swordfish and win!

Relieved: Finally, something for Cyrano to contain all is fury in!

(Glares for a moment at Playgoers 3 and 4)

Take one of your choosing, viscount, for we've had proof you can't

compose your own.

VISCOUNT:

Lowborn knave! You don't even wear the gloves of a noble, much

less the other signs of status.

CYRANO:

That is because my nobility is interior.

I don't need lace and trim to feel superior.

But as for the gloves, that much is true;

I only have one out of the two.

The second I lost not long ago;

I threw it down at Viscount Dumb Show.

VISCOUNT:

Villain! Rogue!

CYRANO:

(bows, as if he was being introduced)

Ce moi, Savinien Hercule Cyrano de Bergerac!

VISCOUNT:

(Draws his sword)

So, you're a poet. Do poets fight?

CYRANO:

As well as they rhyme. In fact, as we cross blades, I will improvise

a ballade. At the final line of the envoy, I'll strike.

VISCOUNT:

Ridiculous!

CYRANO:

Really?

Ballade of a Fencing Duel Between de Bergerac and Viscount Mule.

VISCOUNT:

What's that rubbish?

CYRANO:

The title.

(The crowd grows excited and gathers to watch.)

RAGUENEAU:

What rhymes will you use?

CYRANO:

My dear Ragueneau, you choose.

RAGUENEAU:

Well, then..."ate" and "chew."

CYRANO:

You would choose those, wouldn't you? Good, then. I'll begin.

Before I start, I strip my pate

And shed my cape askew,

(tosses hat aside and removes cape)

Revealing courage beaming great--

A lion through and through.

(They begin to duel)

My steel as cool as morning dew

Seeks blood upon its pike.

But patience! It will not have you;

It's at the end I strike.

So come, you slug, and match my gait;

Ensnare me in your glue;

Entice me with your blade as bait,

And I will seize the cue!

(VISCOUNT makes a rude gesture)

That motion will you quickly rue!

Your death comes nigh now--psych!

(Makes to hit, but fakes it and instead, flicks him on the head)

For though I want your blood to spew,

It's at the end I strike.

To hit my mark, I'm never late,

Attacking when I'm due.

Your temple will I desecrate

In a théâtre coup.

But now I rest upon the pew

(stops and kneels)

And pray your death, belike,

Will end your lordship's yuppie flu

When at the end I strike.

(To his feet)

The envoy:

I've left you in your juice to stew--

The stench I do not like,

So take a taste of metal brew!

It's now the end: I strike!

(Lunges and pierces the VISCOUNT)

(The crowd claps and cheers. They all talk about the

duel as they exit–RAGUENEAU returns CYRANO's

cape, and a young lady returns his hat, at which he

kisses her hand and she giggles. CYRANO and LE

BRET are the only ones left onstage.)